The family we choose
by Lauramebob
Summary: A series of oneshots of Frodo and his 'uncles'
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except my ideas.**

Chapter 1: Introductions

The company had ridden out from Erebor as soon as they had received Bilbo's letter telling of the death of his relatives. They had learnt during the quest that, like dwarves, hobbits took family very seriously, they considered Bilbo family and therefore wanted to be there for him in any way they could.

When Bilbo answered the door to them it was with a sad, grateful smile. His complexion was pasty and drawn from lack of sleep and his clothes were dishevelled. Putting it politely he looked bloody awful.

They filed into the kitchen, each of them giving Bilbo's shoulder a squeeze or offering their condolences. When he moved to make tea for them all Dori took the pot from him and gently pushed the hobbit into a chair whilst Balin went and retrieved biscuits and cake from the pantry. They knew that Bilbo would not want to be a poor host even if he was mourning still.

"How've you been keeping Lad?" Gloin asked, wanting to break the silence. Bilbo shook his head ruefully,

"Truthfully? I'm exhausted. Things got a little ...complicated after Primula and Drogo passed."

"Complicated how?" Fili asked

"Their son-my nephew. They named me as his guardian, something which caused a bit of dispute given my...past exploits and the company I keep."

"I am sorry if we have made life here hard for you my friend." Thorin said, Bilbo waved it away,

"You have nothing to be sorry for Thorin. Truth be told I think the lads inheritance when he comes of age played a part in so many suddenly wanting to take him in, especially those thrice-cursed Sackvilles. Speaking of Frodo-" Bilbo rose from his seat and disappeared down the hall. There was silence once again as the dwarves sat pondering how anyone could be callus enough to use a child for their own gain. Bilbo returned a few minutes later with a small, dark-haired fauntling clutching the back of his waistcoat.

"Frodo lad, you remember the dwarves I told you all about?"

Frodo nodded, big blue eyes never leaving the group as Bilbo introduced them one by one, each of them giving the child a smile or small wave, except Bofur who doffed his hat and earned a small giggle.

A knock at the door sent Frodo hurtling back down the hall. Bilbo offered the dwarves an apologetic smile before going to see who it was. After a brief conversation at the door Bilbo returned.

"He's been doing that every time there's someone at the door. He thinks it's someone come to take him away."

"We won't allow them." Thorin said, making his way over to Bilbo, spying Frodo peering from around a door he beckoned the fauntling over. After an encouraging smile from his uncle Frodo shyly made his way over to the intimidating dwarf, who knelt down slowly so as not to send him running again and gently took him by the shoulders.

"You are as much a part of our family as your uncle little one, and if anyone wishes to take you away then they shall have to go through us first."

The others loudly voiced their agreement and Bilbo found himself smirking at the thought of Lobellia Sackville faced with thirteen extremely protective dwarves.


	2. Chapter 2 Fun and games

**Usual disclaimer here**

Chapter 2: Fun and games

On returning to Bag End from the market Bilbo was more than a bit surprised the place was still standing, considering who had been left in charge. Then he heard the ruckus in the living room. Mentally bracing himself the hobbit poked his head around the door.

Possibly every cushion in Bag End had been thrown higgledy-piggledy over the floor. His nephew Frodo was kneeling on one of the larger cushions doubled over in laughter, Fili was perched on the back of Bilbo's armchair also laughing and in danger of falling off. The source of their amusement seemed to be a peeved Kili, who had a foot on two of the smaller cushions and appeared to be stuck doing the splits.

"Don't either of you help me then!" The younger prince exclaimed trying to shuffle the cushions closer together while trying to keep his balance.

"What on earth?" Bilbo asked trying to fight down his own laughter at the scene.

"Ah Bilbo!" Kili turned his head and gave Bilbo his most charming smile, "Be a friend and give me a hand will you? My d_ear _brother seems to have left me to my fate."

The hobbit moved to comply before being stopped by his nephew's cry of "No uncle! Stay on the rocks!" His eyes wide in childish panic, Fili motioned his head to the cushions by way of explanation.

Bilbo was beginning to understand how Kili had gotten himself in his current predicament as the 'rocks' slid underfoot across the wooden floor but he eventually made it over to the dwarf, allowing Kili to use him as an anchor whilst he bought his feet together.

"Now would someone please tell me what all this is about?"

Kili gave Bilbo an are-you-stupid look before answering with "Floor is lava."

**Yeah, I don't know if they'd use the word 'lava' but just go with it. I drew on personal experience with this one. I found out the hard way when I was about 5 that 'floor is lava' isn't the best game to play when there's a slippery wood floor involved. My cousin's were about as much use as a couple of chocolate fireguards and I was stuck until my uncle took pity on me.**


	3. Nightmare

Chapter 3: Nightmare

Frodo sat bolt upright in bed, breathing heavily from the dream he'd just had. He was contemplating asking his uncle Bilbo if he could spend the rest of the night in his room but he had promised him he would try to spend a whole night in his own room and a Baggins did not break their promises.

Deciding maybe a drink would help Frodo got out of bed and padded silently through Bag End, he could make out the various lumps and bumps that represented a snoozing dwarf, two on the floor and one in uncle Bilbo's chair.

He had just gotten himself a cup of water when a loud bang from behind him made him drop it on the floor. Turning to run he went smack into a solid body. Frodo instinctively started hitting out when a pair of arms trapped him.

"Easy lad, easy," An accented voice soothed, "It's just ol' Bofur."

Frodo relented in his assault, allowing the dwarf to pick him up and immediately latching onto his neck.

"Now, what's all this eh?"

"Had a nightmare." Frodo mumbled.

"Ah," Frodo felt the dwarf nod, "terrible business those. Want to tell me about it?"

Frodo shook his head, truth be told he couldn't even remember. He just knew he had woken up feeling terrified.

"In that case what say we get ya all tucked up back in bed?"

The fauntling's grip on his neck tightening told Bofur that that didn't sound like a good idea but he didn't push it as he made his way to Frodo's room and set him down on the bed.

Rather than lying down Frodo continued to sit up. His eyes having adjusted to the lack of light Bofur could see the lad was staring down at his hands as if he had something he wanted to say but couldn't get the words out. Given his experience with his own nieces and nephews Bofur had a feeling he knew what it was.

"Want me to stay until ya fall asleep again?"

Frodo gave an eager nod and Bofur settled on the floor with his back against the bed, feeling a small hand on his hatless head, as if its owner was reassuring himself he was still there.

Bofur woke some time later with his back screaming at him and a warm weight in his lap. Looking down he saw that at some point Frodo had decided Bofur looked more comfortable than his bed and was curled up with his head on Bofur's chest, a small hand fisted in his shirt. Heaving himself up as gently as he could so as not to jostle the still sleeping boy he moved to place Frodo back in bed only to find that even in sleep he was unwilling to relinquish his grip.

_Well, may as well make meself comfortable _Bofur thought, easing back on the bed himself and stretching out as best as he could (which given the size of the bed wasn't easy).

He was woken again by tiny hands shaking him and a voice right by his ear shouting something about breakfast. Bofur sat up, his back once again making its feelings known about where he had spent the night. He cared about the lad but Mahal did he hope this wasn't going to become a regular thing.


	4. Important question

Chapter 4: Important question

Given that they all had different responsibilities since the taking back of Erebor it was a rare thing for all thirteen dwarves to be at Bag End at the same time and so they were making the most of it. They had bought some casks of Erebor's finest ale and wine with them and Bilbo had liberally over-stocked the pantry in preparation, never before had Frodo seen so much food in one place-and coming from a hobbit that was saying a lot.

They had spent the afternoon and most of the night eating, drinking and regaling each other with various pieces of news as well as reminiscing about past times. Frodo had laughed so hard at the stories about Fili and Kili when they were younger that cider had come shooting from his nose (which the already laughing dwarves found hysterical).

When everything had died down and everyone was quietly talking amongst themselves Frodo tugged on Bilbo's sleeve and whispered something to him.

"Everyone, Frodo says he has something he'd like to ask you."

The young hobbit cleared his throat, suddenly feeling very self conscious now that he had thirteen pairs of eyes on him.

"Well, uhm, I was wondering-If...I," he took a deep breath, worried that they would laugh at him or rufuse. Or both.

"couldIcallallofyouuncleaswell?"

Silence.

"Sorry laddie, what was that?" Oin asked. Frodo smiled sheepishly,

"I was wondering if, maybe, I could start calling you all...uncle...as...well?"

It was a mixed bag of reactions from all of them: Bofur, Ori, Bifur, Nori and Gloin all loudly voiced their consent with cries of 'yes' and 'of course lad' (and in Bifur's case something in Khuzdul), Balin, Dori, Bombur, Oin and Dwalin gave theirs through nods and smiles whilst Fili and Kili sat grinning like idiots and testing the title out on each other. Bilbo was sure that some of their eyes looked a little wet, although he knew it was more than his lifes worth to point it out to them.

The only one yet to give any response was the dwarf king himself. Frodo gazed up at Thorin from his seat next to him. His face was blank as he stared back and Frodo was beginning to worry that he had somehow offended him. Until the dwarf plucked him from his seat and into a gentle hug which Frodo eagerly returned.

"If we're uncles now does that mean we have to start being responsible?"

"Shut up Kili."


	5. A promise kept

A promise kept

**Written for Jedi Ani Unduli, who requested the Sackville-Baggins' encountering 13 protective dwarves. Hope you like it! **

The sight that greeted the thirteen dwarves when they returned to The Shire was one that made their blood boil.

Frodo was waiting for them in his usual spot at the foot of the hill leading up to Bag End, but he wasn't alone.

A hobbit woman with grey hair and a pinched face had a tight grip on Frodo's arm whilst a grumpy looking hobbit gent appeared to be blocking the lads escape as he struggled to free himself.

"Let. Him. Go." Thorin ordered as they grew closer.

"Uncle Thorin!" Frodo called out,

"_Uncle_." The woman spun around and fixed the dwarves with a look of disgust. Frodo used the distraction to wrench his arm free and make a bee line for them, clutching onto Thorin's leg as the tears started to fall.

"I don't want to go with them, I want to go home, please don't let them take me!" Thorin put a comforting hand on the boy's head.

"You see Otho! He's found yet _another_ way to disgrace the Baggins name! Uncle indeed, well hand him over dwarf, this doesn't concern you."

The dwarves all inwardly groaned. If he was Otho then that made the woman Lobellia Sackville-Baggins. Wonderful.

Thorin picked Frodo up and passed him over to Gloin, who then rearranged himself so he and Frodo were in the middle of the group.

"Anything to do with Frodo concerns us Mistress hobbit," Thorin said, words clipped and voice deceptively calm, "now, if I may ask what happened to upset our nephew so."

"_Upset_? We're doing the ungrateful creature a favour. That...maniac doesn't know the first thing about children. We would provide him with a loving, nurturing, _proper_ home."

The dwarves had a feeling that the home these two were offering would be anything _but_ loving. Frodo's small whimper served as confirmation.

"I think the lad wants to stay where he is if it's all the same to you." Nori growled, his protective streak coming through. Lobellia snorted,

"He's a child, how could he possibly know what he wants, now why don't all just go away?" She made a shooing motion as if she were swatting a fly, "It's disgraceful, a Baggins associating with a load of vagabond _dwarves_. Why don't you just turn around and go back to whatever filthy, disgusting mine you crawled out from?"

"Gloin, take Frodo home." Thorin said, feeling his patience for this woman quickly diminishing. If he was going to do or say something rash he'd rather innocent little hobbits weren't around to witness it. Gloin moved to comply, fixing the Sackvilles with a glare which Lobellia seemed to ignore.

"We don't need your kind here. Nothing but thieves and beggars the lot of you."

"They are not!" Frodo shouted squirming in Gloins arms and causing the dwarf to practically drop him.

All eyes were on the little hobbit as he marched up to his relatives, "They're heroes, they fought goblins, and orcs, and a dragon, and Thorin's a king, you don't know what you're talking about-"

He was cut off by a slap around the face from Otho.

"Don't you speak to my wife like that you little brat."

He raised his hand to strike again but was stopped by an iron grip on his wrist.

"I really wouldn't do that again if I were you." Dori said politely, eyes screaming with silent anger; he pointedly tightened his grip for a moment before letting go. He nodded to Thorin before wordlessly scooping up a stunned Frodo and making his way up the hill, whispering comforting words.

Before they had a chance to react Thorin was standing in front of the Sackville's, smiling like a cat that's just cornered a couple of fat mice.

"I think we need to have a talk about how family should be treated."

Behind him the others began toying with their weapons.

For the next week the Sackville's pointedly ignored Bilbo and Frodo and practically ran away whenever they spotted one of the dwarves.

"I know you say you took care of it but what exactly did you do?" Bilbo asked one evening,

Fili shrugged before answering around his pipe, "We made a promise to Frodo and we kept it."

**So yeah...I made it so the title kind of ties in with the end of 'Introductions'. I figured that since Frodo lost both his parents he would be very protective of anyone he considered family and wouldn't tolerate anyone bad-mouthing them. **


	6. Ritual

Ritual

It wasn't until Frodo had been living with him for almost a year that Bilbo noticed a pattern emerging.

Every time any of the dwarves visited, upon leaving they would either slip a small trinket into the lad's hand as discreetly as possible or else conveniently leave something behind. These items Frodo would then stash in a box under his bed (which as far as he was concerned his guardian knew nothing about) until it was given back to the owner on their return to The Shire.

As far as Bilbo was aware the box currently contained a couple of wooden figures (Bofur or Bifur), a dagger sheath (Dwalin maybe?), a pair of knitting needles which could only belong to Ori, a wooden comb, a number of beads and other hair ornaments.

After Oin ignored Bilbo's pointing out that he had left one of his ear trumpets on the arm of a chair (since the incident in Goblin Town the old dwarf had taken to carrying a spare), which appeared to have been exchanged for one of the beads when the dwarf first arrived, curiosity got the better of him .

"Hold on lad." He said before Frodo had a chance to dart from the room with his newest acquisition, "What's all this about?"

"What do you mean uncle?" Frodo asked, giving Bilbo an innocent look he had obviously learnt from the Durin boys.

"That business with the bead earlier and now this, along with the box of items in your room."

Frodo's face switched from innocent to embarrassed although whether it was from the questioning or the fact his uncle knew of his 'secret' stash Bilbo couldn't tell.

"You'll laugh." He mumbled, suddenly showing great interest in his feet. Bilbo shook his head,

"On my honour I won't laugh, you know you can tell me anything."

Frodo looked doubtful,

"Promise?"

"May Smaug rise from the dead and eat me if I let out so much as a giggle." Bilbo said with exaggerated seriousness, earning him a small smile.

"If they leave something behind they have to come back for it." He answered shyly.

Bilbo nodded in understanding, so the lad was using the items as a form of insurance. It made sense, losing his parents so young and so suddenly.

Kneeling so they were eye to eye Bilbo took his nephew's chin in his fingers, lifting his face.

"Frodo, I promise you they will always come back, even if they don't leave anything behind. It's _you_ they care about, not these trinkets. Understand?"

Frodo nodded, his grip on the ear trumpet loosening slightly.

"By the way, how did you come by this arrangement?"

Frodo had the decency to blush, "I used to take stuff from their coat pockets until uncle Balin caught me."

Bilbo raised an eyebrow, hoping a certain pointy haired dwarf knew better than to encourage _that _particularhabit.


	7. The other side of the coin

The other side of the coin

As he watched from his hiding place Frodo came to the conclusion that his uncles weren't scary in battle. They were downright terrifying.

They were making their way to Erebor when the orcs attacked, the howling of a warg their only warning. Frodo was immediately shoved amongst some large rocks with the harshly whispered order not to move from that spot.

In the chaos that followed the dwarves became almost unrecognisable, their expressions ones of rage and determination, the usually cheery and gentle faces nowhere in sight. Instead of jovial laughs there were almost animalistic shouts and grunts as they hacked and dodged and crushed. Even his uncle Bilblo and uncle Ori wore uncharacteristic snarls as they stood close by, wielding sword and slingshot respectively and striking out at any who came too close to where Frodo was hiding.

He became aware of someone behind him and turned to see a grey-skinned leg. Eyes travelling up he met the face of the orc, its yellow eyes blazing with blood lust, sharpened teeth coated in black spittle. Time seemed to slow as the monster readied to bring his sword crashing down on the young hobbit. Frodo was dimly aware of someone shouting his name in the distance and suddenly Fili was there; his hair flying behind him and tainted red and black with gore, a guttural sound leaving his throat as he drove both of his blades into the orcs throat before giving it an almighty shove with his foot.

It was long after the last orc had been slain until they were able to coax Frodo out; even then he stared at them with a small amount of fear and confusion, trying to figure out who these people were covered in all manner of gore, panting from exhaustion and stone-faced.

It was later still and with some trepidation that Frodo allowed himself to be looked over for any possible injuries by Oin before falling asleep wrapped in Thorin's coat with Bofur's hat swamping his head.

As they checked over their own injuries before bedding down, each of the adults prayed to whoever may be listening that the sleeping child would never again have to witness that side of them.

**Bit of drama for you there. Again drew on personal experience with this one-I'm usually incredibly laid back so the first time I lost it in front of a younger relative he looked so confused and wouldn't come near me for the rest of the day. **

**Anyway, just another little note to say I accept prompts so pm me with any ideas you have! **


	8. Comfort

Comfort

**Phew! So sorry it's taken me so long to update! Life's made me its bitch for the past few weeks. Ok, this one's for ****Suimin no Neko (hope you like it :) ), who wanted Frodo worrying about an injured Bilbo and is comforted by Thorin.**

**It's meant as a companion piece to 'The other side of the coin' but can be read alone.**

A lucky strike from an orc had left Bilbo with a relatively deep gash in his leg. For Frodo's sake he had made out that the injury wasn't as bad as it appeared; in the space of two days though his slight limp grew steadily worse, after a week and with the hobbit nearly crying out in pain whenever he put any weight on the offending limb he relented and allowed Oin to examine it.

Since the attack Frodo had been glued to his uncle's side, watching him intently. He may have been young but he wasn't stupid. He was aware of the false smiles and the way the dwarves voices were too cheery whenever they assured him everything was fine, the concerned looks they exchanged. They were acting the same way the grown-ups had before he found out about his parents, meaning something must be wrong with Bilbo. Very wrong.

The others had been given orders from Oin to keep the lad out of the way until he was done, something they were succeeding in despite Frodo's best efforts to get back to his uncle. He didn't care about a new slight of hand trick Nori had or a new game Fili and Kili had just come up with. He _had _to stay with Bilbo, why couldn't they understand that? And in his opinion he and Oin had been gone much too long.

After being intercepted for the sixth time, this time by Thorin, Frodo's fear and frustration got the better of him and he broke down crying hysterically in the dwarf's arms.

A single look from Thorin stopped the others from surging forward to offer comfort, the last thing Frodo needed was to feel smothered. Thorin wasn't sure but he thought he caught something that sounded like "Going to die" between sobs as he carried the child a small distance away from the group.

It was several minutes and one wet and snotty shoulder later that Frodo calmed down to the occasional hiccup. After some gentle coaxing he told Thorin about his parents and how no one would tell him what was wrong and wouldn't let him anywhere near them before telling him they were dead.

Thorin felt guilt start gnawing at him. After the scare of the attack they all thought they were protecting Frodo by keeping him in the dark. Turns out they had achieved the exact opposite. How to make it right?

"I want to show you something." Thorin shifted Frodo in his lap so he could roll up his sleeve revealing a long, puckered scar.

"I got sick after I received this, just like Bilbo. Did I die?"

Frodo ran a finger along the scar before shaking his head no. Thorin shifted again to pull the neck of his tunic to one side revealing a smaller, neater scar on his chest, "This one was from a poisoned blade. I'm still here aren't I?" Frodo nodded

"Your uncle Bilbo is one of the strongest people I know. Stronger than me, and if I can pull through these then he's certainly not going to let a cut on his leg get the better of him." He gave Frodo an encouraging smile "he's going to be fine."

They were interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat.

"You can go and see him now Laddie." Balin said, the small smile on his face suggesting he hadn't just arrived.

Frodo immediately leapt off Thorin and hotfooted it towards where Bilbo was.

"How much of that did you hear?" Thorin asked once Frodo had disappeared,

"Enough." Balin answered moving to stand beside the younger dwarf, "If I remember correctly you almost died twice from that chest wound."

Thorin shrugged, "some details are best left in the dark."


	9. Replaced

Replaced

**For PrincessMnMz who asked for Frodo liking the elves and the company's reaction to it. It's meant to be a companion piece to the last two chapters but can be read alone.**

Why oh why did Bilbo have to go and get himself injured? He had gotten over the worst of the infection in his leg but Oin had (reluctantly) suggested they make use of Lord Elrond's hospitality until the hobbit had made a full recovery. Meaning, for the time being they were surrounded by simpering, tree-loving e_lves_.

Frodo, much to the dwarves chagrin, was immediately taken with the fair folk and they with him. Being such a long lived race children were something of a novelty and one as small as Frodo held even more fascination for them. Numerous times the dwarves had 'rescued' him (and usually with some muttered variation of how elves should go and find their own hobbits) when an elf had the lad perched on their knee toying with his curls or sat across from him smiling indulgently as he sat talking nonsense and asking questions. The twin sons of Elrond were the worst offenders, constantly spiriting the lad away to do Mahal knew what-Fili and Kili were beginning to think they had been replaced in their darling nephew's affections (which in turn led to them creating a lot more mischief than necessary in an effort to win him back).

Bilbo received daily reports from Frodo about his activities with the elves, the lad bouncing around excitedly as he tried to remember every little detail. From the dwarves he received concerns and complaints about Frodo's associating with such an untrustworthy race and couldn't Bilbo perhaps have a quiet word with him (for the lad's own safety of course). Bilbo would merely shake his head and inform them that there was nothing to be done; Frodo was at that age where he saw everyone he met as a potential friend and if he had decided to befriend the elves, well, they would have to stop pouting and accept it. It wasn't as if they'd lost him.

Over the course of their stay the company came to realize that once again Bilbo was right. Frodo would always ask Balin and Dwalin for Dwarven legends and stories of great battles, according to him the stories the Elves told him were too long and boring; after insisting he was old enough to have his own room he would sneak into Fili and Kili's whenever he got lonely or scared. He would sit and play for hours with the wooden toys Bofur and Bifur had made for him rather than the fragile looking thing the elves gifted him with and no matter what Elven garb found its way into his room he refused to take off his tiny fingerless gloves (courtesy of Ori).

Frodo may have been a friend to the elves but he was still _their_ Frodo.


End file.
